


Snowdrops and Candles Soothed the Bedside

by sleepyxcoffee



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: First Love, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Past Character Death, Second Chances, second love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28065912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepyxcoffee/pseuds/sleepyxcoffee
Summary: Geralt learns to love again.
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Vesemir, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47
Collections: The Witcher Flash Fic Challenge #012





	Snowdrops and Candles Soothed the Bedside

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Mid-Term Break by Seamus Heaney

Two years after Blaviken, Geralt has every intention of fixing his sullied name.

Then, halfway through the spring, Geralt turns back to Kaer Morhen.

(“One day,” a ten year old Geralt said, “we’ll walk the Path together.”

Eskel hummed. The two boys were lying on their backs, watching the clouds in a rare moment of peace. “You think?”

“I know it.”)

Vesemir meets him at the gate. Geralt hands him the medallion, and trudges inside without a word.

He comes to their room, and sits heavily on their bed. The air is still thick with  _ his _ scent, even though they left at the end of winter. Geralt rolls into the furs, and buries his nose in his lover’s pillow.

(Their first kiss was fumbling, at fifteen. No more than boys, bigger than they were brave.)

Eventually, Vesemir drags Geralt out of bed. “You need to eat, Wolf,” he says, and Geralt follows him silently.

(Their first time was shy and sweet, a week before their first Trial at seventeen. They were hanging on the cusp of adulthood, the fresh summer days of their childhood behind them.)

“What happened?” Vesemir asks him over dinner.

Geralt says nothing. He shovels soup into his mouth, then returns to their room. He doesn’t sleep, that night, basking in the fragmented remains of their love.

(In the end, despite Rennes’ good-natured grumbling and Varin’s annoyed disapproval and Vesemir’s quiet sigh, Geralt and Eskel striked out on the Path together. They shared a single horse to carry their belongings from Kaer Morhen’s stables. She was a beautiful mare, short and stocky. Eskel insisted on calling her Roach, after how small she was compared to all the other horses. Geralt acquiesced, on the grounds that her chestnut coat made her look like a cockroach.

Much to Eskel’s annoyance, Roach took to Geralt much faster than to him. Eskel tried to ride her, once, when he had a sprained ankle in Caingorn, and she bucked him off, spraining his other ankle. Geralt promptly fell over in peals of laughter. When Roach let Geralt on her back without a single complaint two weeks later, Eskel called her a slimy little viper. Just for that, she nipped him. Geralt named every one of his horses Roach after that, just to spite Eskel.)

Geralt plans to return to the Path when spring turns to summer. Then Roach starts getting suspiciously fatter, and Geralt remembers the wall between her stall and Scorpion’s had broken at the end of winter. There is relief in Vesemir’s eyes when Geralt tells him he’ll be staying until Roach foals. Geralt won’t be able to leave until next spring, and Vesemir knows it.

(They walked the Path together for many years, spending their days hunting through forests and cities and villages with their swords drawn, harbingers of death, and their nights wrapped in a loving embrace trading gentle kisses. One day, Geralt sat behind Eskel stitching a wound on his shoulder from a katakan. For witchers, they were getting injured surprisingly infrequently, but Geralt chalked that up to working in a pair. In a harsh and bloody world, they had each other’s backs.

Eskel started humming a folk song - one of the few things he remembered from before Kaer Morhen. Geralt was overtaken by a sudden surge of affection. He leaned forwards and kissed Eskel’s cheek.

“Stay with me,” Geralt murmured, and Eskel smiled.

“Always.”)

Roach foaled in the autumn. 

(“You know,” Eskel said one day, “if we were human, this would be a marriage.”

Geralt’s heart leapt in his chest. “Do you want to?”)

When winter arrives at Kaer Morhen’s doorstep, three  Wolves come with it. Lambert, Aubry, and Remus, cold but alive.

“Where’s Eskel?” Lambert asks, and Geralt walks away.

(Vesemir officiated their wedding later that winter.)

Lambert spends two days banging on Geralt’s door before he gives up.

(Things started going south after the slaughter. Geralt and Eskel were forced to split up, what with witchers’ numbers hitting the ground. It was hard to adjust to; they had fought side by side since they were boys, after all, but they returned to Kaer Morhen in one piece, and spent a whole week relearning their bodies, tracing new scars and trading stories and kisses. Lambert took the piss out of them, but he hardly begrudged them their happiness.

A witcher’s life was a hard life, after all, and what little happiness they found, they treasured.)

Vesemir asks him three more times what happened. For nearly a year, Geralt barely speaks.

(Things went tits up when Geralt entered Blaviken. It wouldn’t have gone that way if Eskel was there, Geralt thought. Eskel was sensible where Geralt was soft, firm where he was unsure. Eskel would have known what to do. He wouldn’t have faltered, and killed a dozen men in the process.

News of the Butcher of Blaviken spread like wildfire, and whole villages started turning away witchers in fear. In Temeria, a furious Griffin nearly attacked Geralt before the murmurs of villagers drew him away. “Look at what you’ve done to us, Butcher,” the Griffin spat. “Before we were just inhuman. Now we’re monsters.”

The Griffin’s words haunted Geralt. It was true - Geralt had single-handedly gone ahead and destroyed his guild’s reputation. He shuddered to think of what other witchers must feel towards the Wolf School.

Geralt found himself too deep in his shame to even consider returning to Kaer Morhen. Instead, he spent his winter down south, trekking through contracts where the snow wasn’t knee-deep. He knew Eskel must be worried sick, and pushed away the fear.)

Halfway through winter, the snow lets up. It’s thin enough that Geralt feels comfortable turning Roach and her foal out, and they gallop around happily. The little black colt tries to graze, but instead sticks his tongue against an ice patch. Geralt pours warm water on his tongue until the colt frees himself. He whinnies and nudges Geralt affectionately.

Geralt retreats to the fence line, and continues watching the horses. The colt is a splitting image of Scorpion, only with Roach’s white stripe. They lift their heads and stare at him for a moment, then continue galloping in circles.

(The next spring Eskel and Scorpion found him almost instantly, and stuck to Geralt’s side again. Still, he refused to tell him what happened in Blaviken.)

They have to wait until nearly the end of spring for Roach to wean her colt. Geralt tries t o insist on separating them earlier, but Vesemir refuses. Geralt isn’t sure how much of that is the old man trying to keep an eye on him and how much is genuinely for the colt’s own good.

But eventually the colt stops nursing, and Geralt packs Roach to set out on the Path. Vesemir hovers next to him in a manner Geralt would describe as concerned if it was anyone else.

“I want to see you in one piece this winter, Wolf,” is all Vesemir says when Geralt mounts Roach. Geralt nods stiffly at him, and rides off.

(They spent all of that year together, like they were boys again, and returned to Kaer Morhen as a pair. In the winter, Geralt finally told Eskel about Blaviken between gentle kisses and wandering hands. Geralt cried. Eskel held him.

“I want to go back to Blaviken,” Geralt said two days later as they laid tangled on the bed.

“Are you sure?” Eskel asked. Geralt nodded. “Then I’ll come with you.” It made affection swell in Geralt’s heart. Classic Eskel - non-judgemental and unwaveringly loyal.)

Geralt does return to Kaer Morhen that winter, and the winter after, and many winters after that. While other Wolves may end up elsewhere for winter, Geralt always returns. Then he spends one winter away, much to Vesemir’s worry. When he comes home the winter after, Vesemir asks him where he went.

“I was with some bard,” Geralt says, and closes the conversation there. Vesemir thinks little of it.

And then Geralt starts spending every other winter away, citing “some bard” as his reasoning. Vesemir is curious, Lambert is teasing. Eventually, they learn his name - Jaskier. Vesemir watches with pride as the part of Geralt that had died with his eldest son slowly begins to come back to life. Vesemir can only give his sons so much; love is something beyond his reach.

Geralt will always miss Eskel, Vesemir thinks as he watches Geralt trek up the Killer with Roach the fifth, Roach the fourth’s now-grown colt, and a cloaked figure. But that is no reason for him to close his heart off forever, and Vesemir is eternally grateful for this mysterious bard who has brought a smile back into Geralt’s life. Jaskier will never replace him - no, that isn’t what Geralt needs. But Jaskier will fill the gap he left in Geralt’s life, and for that Vesemir is indebted.

(“Who was he?” Jaskier asked one day. He was strumming a little tune on the lute as he walked next to Geralt.

Geralt froze. “What?”

Jaskier sighed theatrically, but he gave Geralt a concerned look. “You had someone else.”

Geralt opened his mouth, and closed it. Then, quietly, -

“Eskel. My - my husband. Dead now.”

Jaskier didn’t press.)

With Jaskier, the keep is full of song. He sings and plays and hums all day long, composing ballads and ditties on the spot. At first, it drives Lambert insane, and one day he shouts at Geralt.

“I can’t believe you went ahead and  _ replaced _ him!” Lambert snarls. Vesemir breaks it up, and Geralt drags Jaskier to their room, fuming. It’s not the same room Geralt shared with Eskel, no. That room stays untouched, a shrine to what once was. It’s another room, just as big and bright and warm, but different.

Jaskier wins Lambert over when he writes a little tune about the red-haired wolf and the dragon of White Orchard, and then wins him (and Vesemir) over a bit more when he writes a ballad about the snow-haired wolf whose grieving heart learns to thaw.

If Geralt sheds a tear later in bed, then Jaskier doesn’t tell.

(It was all because of Blaviken.)

“What happened to him?” Jaskier asks, and Geralt knows exactly what he’s talking about. Jaskier is on their bed, restringing his lute, and Geralt sits by the fire, sharpening his sword. Slowly, Geralt sets down his sword.

“It was my fault,” he says thickly.

“Bullshit.”

Geralt shakes his head. “No, it was. It was - it was after Blaviken. I wanted to go back and apologise to the alderman. Eskel said he’d come with me. It was just after winter and we rode straight for Blaviken.” His voice grows thick, hoarse. Even after thirty years, the wound still feels as fresh as when Eskel died.

Jaskier stands, and for one terrifying moment Geralt worries he’s about to leave him (like Visenna, like Eskel, Geralt refuses to think). Instead, Jaskier sets down the lute and sits on Geralt’s lap, surrounding him in his arms. “Keep talking,” Jaskier says gently, running his hands through Geralt’s hair.

“We - we got to Blaviken just fine. And then we walked in, and they saw us, and they started throwing stones at us, so we had to leave. Well, I don’t know if you’ve ever been to Blaviken, but it’s surrounded by forest. We chose to spend the night in the woods because it was late and there was nowhere else to go but - Blaviken had been turning away witchers for Melitele knows how long, and it meant there were monsters, and I was stupid to not think of that. A leshen got us in our sleep. It got Eskel’s horse, first, and then Eskel fought it off long enough for me to escape on Roach.”

Geralt suddenly realises his throat feels raw and there are tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. Jaskier leans forwards and kisses them away, running gentle hands through Geralt’s hair. “It wasn’t your fault,” Jaskier murmurs. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I still love him. I love you too, but Eskel - there was a part of me -” Jaskier places a finger against Geralt’s lips, smiling softly. Geralt realises there are tears in Jaskier’s eyes, too.

“That’s alright.”

(One part of Geralt may have died with Eskel, but another was reborn with Jaskier.)


End file.
